Helen Wheels
by Smileyfax
Summary: Helen calls Daria's bluff and begins to tutor her daughter in the art of being a motorist.  And other stuff happens too .
1. Chapter 1

"What about you, Daria? How was your first day?"

Daria blinked, amazed that her family finally got around to talking to her after Quinn raved for half an hour on all the groups she had been invited to join.

"Well, my history teacher hates me because I know all the answers, but there are some interesting idiots in my class."

"That's great!" Jake said.

"Jake!" Helen cut in.

"I mean..."

"Daria, your father's trying to tell you not to judge people until you know them. You're in a brand-new school in a brand-new town. You don't want it to be Highland all over again."

"Not much chance of that happening - unless there's uranium in the drinking water here, too."

Helen became a little annoyed, evidenced by her wrinkled brow and scowl. "I'm talking about you making a friend or two. Don't be so critical. Give people the benefit of the doubt."

"It all boils down to trust," Daria summed up.

"Exactly. It all boils down to trust. Show a little trust."

"Mom...Dad...you're right." One heartbeat...two heartbeats... "Can I borrow either car?"

"No," Jake uttered instantly, bent over his lasagna. Helen, however, paused for a moment.

"Sure, Daria," she said, reaching into her pocket. "Here you go!" She placed the keys to her SUV next to Daria's plate.

"Eep!" The sound escaped from Daria's larynx unbidden. "Uh...I mean...thanks, Mom, but I meant...uh...after dinner."

Helen nodded. "After dinner, then," she said, a sage smile on her lips.

A moment later, the phone rang, and as Helen got up to answer it, Daria stared at the keyring, terror fermenting in her gut at the thought of actually getting behind the wheel. Besides that one abortive driver's ed class she had taken shortly before leaving Highland (watching Buzzcut cry was a life-changing experience), she had no experience at all behind the wheel. And what was even more terrifying than that was that Helen had called her bluff.

"You girls took a psychological test at school today?" Helen had apparently finished up on the phone.

"They said we wouldn't be graded!" Quinn whined.

Ignoring Quinn's outburst, Helen turned to Daria. "Daria, they want you to take a special class for a few weeks, then they'll test you again."

Crap.

XXXXXXXXXX

I was re-reading the transcript for Esteemsters (research for chapter two of The Cornfield - I'll get it done before too long, honest!) and my eye caught onto the line of Daria's about borrowing either car. So, like tons of authors before me, I though, "Hmm, what if?" and this was born.

I have a few ideas as to where I'd like to take this...let's just hope I don't decide to let it sit on the backburner for months on end, like what usually happens with anything I write. Haha.

(Also, I apologize for the title - it was the best I could come up with at quarter to five in the morning. If anybody thinks of anything better, I'll gladly take it. (Though nobody came up with anything for Daria vs. Abraham Lincoln, so I'm dubious that anybody will even try)). 


	2. Chapter 2

Daria and her new friend Jane were walking home, discussing their after-school self-esteem 'class'. Daria still marvelled at the discovery of a person with both an intact brain and intact sanity, and was even more awed that Jane wanted to be friends with her.

"So then, after the role-playing, next class they put the girls and the guys in separate rooms and a female counselor talks to us about body image," Jane said.

"What do they talk to the boys about?" Daria asked.

"A classroom full of guys and a male teacher?" Jane asked, as if it were self-evident. And, to Daria, it was a moment later.

"Daria!"

"Eep!" For the briefest of moments, Daria had thought Jane meant that all the boys were talking about her personally, but then realized the speaker wasn't Jane. She turned to the SUV which had pulled up next to the two and saw that the driver was none other than Helen.

"Oh, hi, Mom," Daria greeted meekly.

"Daria, who's this? Did you actually make a friend?" Helen asked, smiling widely.

"Hello, Mrs. Morgendorffer. I'm Jane Lane," Jane said, extending a hand. Helen took it and gave it a firm few shakes.

"It's so good to meet you, Jane! Daria hardly ever makes friends - and the ones she had before we moved here were..." Helen visibly shuddered. "You're not interested in...bodily functions, are you?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh hell," Daria muttered.

"Not to my knowledge, Mrs. Morgendorffer," Jane said, suppressing a smirk at her new friend's humiliation.

Daria tried to deflect the conversation away from further embarrassment. "What are you doing out here, Mom? It's not even five o'clock yet."

"Oh, I decided to take the rest of the day off to work with you on your self-esteem...and your driving skills."

Daria froze in terror. Her little excursion the other night hadn't resulted in an amalgam of mangled steel and ruptured organs, but it hardly could be counted as a success. She had circled the block...once. At five miles per hour. And when she pulled into the driveway, she accidentally knocked over the (empty) garbage can, which caused her to slam on the brakes, throw the car in park, and leap out of the vehicle at a speed which seemed to defy conventional physics. Mortified, she spent the rest of the night locked in her room.

"Oh...uh...well..." Daria tried to think up a reason to justify running as far away from the SUV as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Say, that sounds like fun!" Jane interjected. "Can I tag along?"

Helen nodded. "Of course, Jane! Any friend of Daria's is welcome to join in. We can even talk some more!"

"Oh, this is going to be too fun," Jane said, turning to Daria and smirking.

I hate you, Daria thought at Jane as hard as she could.

Jane hopped into the backseat while Helen put the car into park, got out, and slid into the passenger seat. "Well, Daria? What are you waiting for?"

Daria clenched her jaw in defeat. Crap.

XXXX

At Helen's insistent urging (and implication that a cop would pull her over), Daria reluctantly pressed down on the accelerator until the SUV was within 10 MPH of the posted speed limit. Her knuckles had turned pure white from her fingers gripping the wheel so hard (Daria suspected there would be permanent indentations afterwards) and her eyes were becoming strained from ping-ponging between the various mirrors, the gauges on the dashboard, and the road itself.

"You seriously need to relax, Daria. Driving's easy!" Jane said.

"Not helping," Daria said through gritted teeth.

"You do, though, Daria," Helen advised. "You're going to become a regular driver a lot sooner than you think."

Fear spread through her like ripples from dropping a stone into a pond. "Oh?" she asked casually.

Helen nodded. "I looked up the driving laws for this state, and you can get yourself a probationary license in as soon as three months."

"Uh..." Daria's mouth went dry. Then, inspiration! "But wait, since you and Dad work so much, both of your cars will be gone too, and I won't even be able to use it!" In her triumph, she actually managed to relax a little.

"Well..." Helen hesitated, then relented. "I was thinking of getting you a car for your birthday next month."

"Holy crap, a car? Your mom's the coolest, Daria!" Jane said, a huge grin on her face.

"Now, it'd have to be a cheap one, but your father and I can manage...Daria, your speed is dropping."

Daria pressed down on the accelerator again. "Uh, you could always get me a new computer. Or a bicycle. Or cash. Or breast implants."

"Daria!" Helen said, scandalized. "Don't be silly. You're getting a car, and that's that."

Crap. 


End file.
